The Bone(r) Saw
by Okami-chan
Summary: MJ has a brilliant idea. Peter really hates it. But he gets laid, so why Is he complaining, exactly? So yeah. Just another excuse to write SpideyJane smut


**Author's Notes **The title makes me laugh, so hush! While trying to feed my SpideyJane need, I went hunting around on tumblr and stumbled across Mrsstampede's post for an idea. Then Wicked-42 and PurpletigerWrittingTiger15 cheered me on and Mrsstampede okayed it. IT'S ALL THEIR FAULT BLAME THEM! :D:D Also needed a break from the monster that I've been working on this past Mrsstampede for this glorious idea and Wicked-42 and Purpletiger15 for their encouragements. Hope I did it justice!

* * *

Mary Jane paused as she idly scrolled through the Amazon shopping app on her phone. The stifled giggle that burst through the hand she'd slapped over her lips drew the attention of Betty Brant next to her.

"Oh, does someone's beau have a superhero kink?

Mary Jane hissed a giggly 'Shh!' at the other woman, but it ended with both of them dropping their heads to their desk like a pair of high school girls.

They both shot straight up in their seats and focused on their computer screens when Robbie walked by. Mary Jane made sure her phone sat screen down and powered down. She stared intently at the article in front of her, fingers tapping an idle rhythm against inert keys.

Robbie narrowed his eyes at the two associate editors, but didn't even pull the cell phone from his ears.

When he closed his office door, Mary Jane and Betty broke into more badly stifled giggles.

"Which one are you getting?"

Mary Jane grinned, because Betty had no idea. None whatsoever. She leaned over and whispered her answer to the other woman.

Betty's hazel eyes widened and both dropped their heads to the desk to hide their laughter.

Peter was going to freak.

It would be glorious.

~*~*~*~*~  
A few weeks later  
~*~*~*~*~

'_Hey tiger, when you coming home?'_ \- MJ

'_Won't be long. Any leftovers?'_ -Pete

Mary Jane smirked down at her phone, rolling her eyes at his question. '_Always thinking with your stomach. Pizza in the fridge. Dessert in th__e__ bedroom.'_

'_Dessert? I like dessert. What's for dessert?'_ came the immediate reply.

Mary Jane's smirk slid smoothly into a grin, and she bounced to her feet, closing her laptop in the same motion. '_Come home and find out. ;)'_

Mary Jane put the laptop away, and went into her closet to dig out her recent amazon purchase. She hummed as she straightened the pile in the closet and grabbed her bathrobe and then retreated into the bathroom. She checked her phone and grinned when she saw him texting guesses that involved chocolate or whipped cream or cherries. Or any combination therein.

'_If you fall on your face because your texting while your swinging again maybe you won't get any dessert.'_

'_One time! That happened one time! And I was a teen? Am I close, though?'_

'_Cherry may not be far off...'_

'_I like cherries._'

It took way too long to get the stupid thing on, and she wondered why Peter never seemed to have this problem. She was so glad to have had the forethought to use the bathroom before pulling the whole thing on as she could hear when the window squeaked open, heralding Peter's arrival.

She heard the fridge open and close and Peter call her name and she still had to get her arms through the sleeves and the boots settled.

"MJ? I'm in the bedroom," Peter called from the direction of their bedroom, "I don't see any dessert."

"Dessert's coming, Pete," she called sweetly from between clenched teeth as she squeezed her feet into the heeled shoes. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable, and I'll bring it in."

She pulled her bathrobe on and straightened her hair in the mirror, making sure nothing was too visible under the robe. She tapped the dim light that could just barely be seen through the fabric of the robe. She decided that Peter could wait while she threw on a little eyeshadow and lipgloss, though it wouldn't last long if things went well.

"MJ, I'm all comfy," Peter called in a singsong voice, no doubt from the bed.

"Don't get crumbs on the bed, sweetie," she called back, matching his tone, mascara wand hovering over her lashes while she yelled through the bathroom door. "Finish the pizza, and I'll bring dessert right out."

She checked herself in the bathroom mirror, used a piece of tissue to clean the edge of her bottom lip and fluffed her hair over her shoulder with the palm of her hand.

Then she stepped out of the bathroom, and carefully made her way to the bedroom door.

Peter laid back on the pillows, clad only in his blue boxer briefs. The moonlight streaming in through the curtains caressed the pale skin that dipped and swelled over his muscled frame, and illuminated his dark mop of perpetually messy hair.

He paused in the middle of taking a bite of the pizza in his hand and turned his gaze from the window. His brown eyes widened and he sat up, his gaze drifting down to her excessive heels and squinted on the way back up to her face. His lips pressed together in contemplation, until he said, "I don't see any cherries..."

Mary Jane pursed her lips, so her grin wouldn't smear lip gloss on her teeth and leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed under her breasts, framing them for his benefit. "Oh, don't worry, tiger. You will."

The smile that lit his face sent a thrill of delight and anticipation down Mary Jane's spine. She pushed off the doorframe, her eyes intent on Peter's lips. She kept her robe close, still mindful of her little game.

Peter watched her, his eyes hungrily devouring every unsteady step she took to the bed. He tilted his eyes up to hers when she had a knee on the bed.

Mary Jane smoothed her hand up the bare muscled thigh closest to her, chest bursting with need that quickened her breath.

Peter plucked at the shoulder of her robe. "What are you wearing under there, hm?"

Mary Jane was much less interested in answering then she was in kissing Peter's soft lips.

Peter pulled his head away, not a rejection, as he pressed his mouth along her chin and jaw instead. "I'm going to mess up your lipstick," he half-mumbled, half-growled against her lips when she insisted on trying to kiss him again.

Mary Jane huffed a careless moan at him, her hands on his chest so that she could feel the ripple of muscles that went along with the motions of his hands caressing her side. "Do you think I care about my make-up right now, tiger?"

"You put it on, so..."

She cut him off with a kiss, successfully catching his lips this time. She wiped the lipstick off on his skin, on his neck and shoulders, leaving coral trails behind before she went back for his mouth again.

His mouth opened to her, and a growl rumbled from his throat as she nipped and tugged at his lips.

She could see his excitement, in the standing tent of his underwear and the heaving of his chest. He groaned as he ran his hands up her thighs, and under her robes. "What _are_ you wearing? Come on, I want to see." In spite of his words, his fingers tangled into her loose hair and he ran hot kisses down her throat.

Or so she thought, until he yanked the bathrobe open. And promptly shoved her away.

Mary Jane looked down at Peter, and breathed in such a way so that her breasts heaved and strained against the spandex she wore.

"The fuck, Mary Jane? What the fuck?"

Her pursed lips were the only reason a shit-eating grin hadn't spread across her face. She let the robe fall away from her shoulder, and drape around her elbows. "Oh Peter," she breathed at him, "don't you like my new costume. I bought it special for you."

"No. No! I do not like the new costume. What the hell, MJ?"

Mary Jane couldn't hold back any longer, and broke into laughter at the horror-stricken look on his face.

All the passion had left his body, she could tell from the way his boxer briefs lay flat, and he leaned away from her as though she was infectious.

"Is this a joke?" he asked in that same horrified tone. "Not funny. What the fuck is with that… that thing!"

She pouted at him, shifting closer, practically chasing him across the bed. "Don't you think this is attractive. Look at this." She touched a button at the top of the 'arc reactor' that sat under her breast, making it blink. Then she reached into her pockets and slipped her hands into the straps for the 'flight repulsors', activating them with the touch of another button. They flickered to life, and _vibrated_ in her hands. So she touched them to his thighs.

Peter was suddenly in the corner of the room, up on the ceiling, facing her with panicked brown eyes. "Don't do that," he shrieked.

She hadn't even seen him move.

Mary Jane collapsed on the bed, her sides hurting from the gales of laughter she'd finally succumbed to. His face! She kept seeing the expression on his face and it made her laugh even harder. The robe had come off in Peter's scramble, exposing Mary Jane's red and gold get up. The tight catsuit primarily red and accented in gold. The high neck, and open chest that tapered down into a skintight body suit all the way down to the stupid heeled boots.

Peter covered his face, his hands tangled in his hair. "It's not funny, MJ. I work with the guy. I've known him since I first started heroingfor Christ's sake. D-don't _do_ that," he yelped as she tossed her hair, and heaved her chest at him again. "God I don't think I'll ever be able to look Tony in the eye again."

"Oh, underoos, why don't you come give Iron Man a kiss?"

He spun about on the ceiling, tucking his knees up to his forehead and hiding from her. "Shut the fuck up with that!"

Mary Jane couldn't help it, she cracked up again. Peter almost never swore, much less dropping F-bombs left and right like that. She was having so much fun.

At poor Peter Parker's expense.

Mary Jane managed to regain her composure again. She found Peter still tucked in the corner, glaring at her from over his knees and even grumbling to himself.

"Aw, don't you like the new light this puts Papa Stark in?" She rolled on her stomach so she could, wiggle her red-covered posterior in his direction.

"GAH! NO. Don't call him that! And you're wearing that! I don't like it. I don't likeit!Idon'tlikeit!" His eyes disappeared behind his knees again as his words ran together.

Mary Jane buried her giggles in her arms. She grinned up at Peter, and decided that she had tormented Peter long enough. She rolled onto her back, pulling a pillow under her shoulder and head and tucked one of her feet against her butt, leaving her legs open.

"Peter," she crooned. She twisted a few strands of hair in her fingers. "I'm sorry. Won't you come down from there and help me out of this thing."

"You're not sorry," he told his knees. His eyes still hid behind his arms. "I don't want to touch you in that stupid thing. It's not sexy!"

Mary Jane needed a moment to stop the giggles from exploding past her lips. She looked up to find one of his eyes glaring down at her. That only prompted more laughter. "You're right," she said between giggles, "I'm not sorry. Not at all. But I don't want to be left alone down here, tiger. You going to leave me to take care of myself? No fair." She pouted at his glaring eye.

Then she slid her hand between her breasts and over the fake arc reactor, to reach between her legs. She couldn't see what she was doing, but she knew what she liked, and she pressed her fingers into the folds between her legs, spreading the spandex to display herself to Peter. She rubbed at herself, breathing heavily past her teeth. She watched Peter from under her lashes. "Come down and help a girl out."

Peter's glare had softened, and both eyes flicked over her now. "Tease," he moaned. "It's so wrong."

"Then help me take it off, tiger," she crooned, rubbing her other hand over the bared skin of her bust.

Peter flinched, but he uncurled and finally leaned toward her, even if he was still stuck up in the corner. "Only if I can tear it apart."

Mary Jane ran a hand down her thigh, and closed her leg. "I wasn't planning on wearing it again." She smiled up at him.

Peter skittered over the ceiling, the horror having morphed to anger in his eyes. "Can I burn it?

Mary Jane twirled her hair, trying for another sexy pose. "Whatever you want, tiger."

Peter pounced. He dropped on top of her, twisting so that he could pin her to the bed.

It actually frightened her. A little. Just a little. Like that first drop in a roller coasting. A thrill.

He didn't kiss her, but with that anger burning in his eyes he set his hands on the opening under her neck and pulled. The spandex costume tore easily in his hands, straight down until the tear shot off to the side, exposing one of her breasts. His bared teeth belied the effort he didn't need to exert to rip the costume. Peter took hold of the textured red sleeve and ripped it off her arm. Then he did the other sleeve, throwing them both to the floor. He suddenly turned to her feet, and she lifted her leg so that he could remove the heels, wiggling her toes once they were freed from the stupid torture devices.

Peter paused, just long enough to give each foot a quick, but firm rub. His breath quickened again and he pulled at her waist, pulling the bottom apart with his hands. He grunted as he tore the bottom of the spandex off her body.

Mary Jane lifted her hips to help him, her own heart hammering in excitement as he worked her pants off. She wanted to pull him down for a kiss and run her hands over the hard muscles of his abs. "Peter…" she murmured.

Peter looked up from throwing the pants to the floor. He contemplated her only for a minute before he surged toward her and captured her lips in a hot kiss, his tongue pushing into her mouth. He slid his hand over her breast, fingers rolling her nipple deftly.

She barely had time to catch her breath before Peter was back at work in tearing the remainder of her suit off. She grabbed at his sweaty skin, trying to pull him in for a kiss again. She sat up so he could pull the top of the costume off (granted it was by way of ripping the back in half). That left Mary Jane naked under him, and him still wearing his underwear.

Peter, his eyes still hot – with passion now instead of anger, she thought – pulled her astride his lap. He dropped kisses on her chest and shoulders, his hands on her breasts so that he could lavish wet kisses on their curves.

Mary Jane squirmed in his lap, and her fingers carded through his mop of hair. "Better?" she breathed.

He grunted, and wriggled his underwear off his hips. "I never want to see that thing again," he growled as he pulled her hips close.

Mary Jane braced her hands on his shoulder, and her lips brushed his forehead. "No Iron Man costumes. Got it." She slid onto him, and peppered his lips with butterfly kisses. She didn't have time to settle, as he started moving under her, his hands on her hips, panting into her mouth. The slap of flesh accompanied their harsh breathing as Peter thrust into her, his biceps flexing as her held he bounced her hips in time with his thrusts.

He suddenly rolled her onto the bed, his hand behind one of her knees to hold it up and give him deeper access. Peter nibbled at her chin and throat, his breath a warm wash over her skin.

Mary Jane gasped at the pressure of his fingers on her leg, at the rough motions of his hips as he drove himself into her.

She had to say, she really liked this result of tonight's game. Peter played too gentle most of the time, and it was too much effort to talk him into rougher sex. She understood, she really did. But she trusted him to not take it too far.

He pressed in, his breath wheezing, and his whole body stiffening against her. He shifted inside her, and then withdrew, letting her leg drop. His brown eyes slid open to regard her, and one of his hands caressed her cheek. "Did I scare you?"

"No. You never frighten me, Peter. Not in a long time." She sat up to climb over him and retrieve the towel they kept between the wall and the bed to clean up.

He sighed, and sat up to pull the blankets back. "I was worried for a minute there. You looked scared before I got my hands on that suit." He took the towel from her and reached between her legs to wipe up his mess. "I don't ever want you to be scared of me."

Mary Jane smiled and stretched. "Don't you worry, tiger. I enjoyed every minute of that."

Peter frowned and wiped at himself before throwing the towel on the floor with the remnants of her costume. "I could tell. Glad you enjoyed my pain. Don't ever do that again, thanks."

Mary Jane snuggled against his side, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips and bid him good night.

And distinctly did not promise not to do it again.

Mary Jane let some time pass before she pulled out another of the packages she'd ordered from Amazon. She had to dress quickly, as she could hear the shower turn off and knew Peter would be done not too long afterwards. She slipped under the covers, and pulled them up to her neck, her hair a mess over her face so that she could stealthily watch Peter walk into the bedroom.

She did it as much because she knew he'd be naked after his shower this late at night, as for the sake of her little game.

Peter naked was a sight she never wanted to miss. She loved that she could tap that almost every night, when he came home at a decent time.

She didn't plan much beyond his initial discovery tonight. She'd seen the way he held himself after he'd climbed through their window. She hadn't gotten all the details, but she didn't know if he'd be up to any serious fun. Then again, maybe this would get him, even with whatever bruises he had.

Peter closed the bedroom door behind him. Letting her admire his glorious muscled backside. Bruises riddled his back and hips, and she frowned, even though she knew they'd be gone by morning. He stood over the bed, and pulled the blankets back and froze.

Mary Jane pressed a blue-gloved finger to her lips, making sure to press her breasts together with her arms. "Oh-oh no. Spidey, please be gentle with-eeeep!"

She didn't even have time to finish before Peter was on her, his eyes burning and hands on her to rip the spandex away from her. "What the fuck, MJ?" he was snarling as he tore the flame-accented blue sleeves. "Johnny, really? Where the hell did you find a fucking Human Torch costume?" Peter grabbed the front and tore the whole thing down the front, all the way to the crotch

"It was really hard, actually," Mary Jane admitted, laughing as she sat up so she could free her arms from the torn suit. "No one apparently wants a sexy Human Torch, they're all about the sexy Sue Storms." She ran a hand down his arm as he pulled the costume away from her waist.

He slapped her hand away. "I thought you weren't going to do this again?" The costume ended up on the floor as the first one had, and Peter kicked it clear across the room.

"I only said no Iron Man." Mary Jane, still laughing, sat up on her knees and grabbed Peter's jaw so she could kiss his lips.

Peter shoved her down and had her pinned before she knew it. "It's more than a little disturbing that you dressed up like one of my best friends to get a rise out of me." He shuddered over her.

She bounced her hips against him. "You don't seem disturbed."

Peter kissed her, and his hand slipped between her legs to finger her. "That's all you, baby." Peter pushed her legs open and replaced his fingers with other parts of him just as good.

Mary Jane tucked her heel against her butt, spreading her knees and wrapping her arms around his neck. "You up to this? I saw the bruises."

Peter pushed one of her knees a little farther apart, stretching her thigh almost to the point of pain. "Didn't stop you, though, did it?" He got down to business, then, his hands rough on her thigh as he moved within her. His teeth nipped at her breasts, sometimes a little too hard, and his tongue played with her nipple or her ear.

Mary Jane dug her fingers into his shoulder as he pressed in a little too deep, and thrust a tad too hard. She opened her mouth to him when his mouth crashed against hers, and answered his probing tongue with her own. She panted, breathless as he drove himself in twice more, and shuddered as he came inside her.

He rolled off her. "Are you done with your little joke yet?"

Mary Jane grinned and kissed his cheek. "Nope." She hopped out of bed to go use the bathroom, squeaking as his fingers slipped over her skin.

"MJ? MJ! Seriously?"

Mary Jane laughed at Peter.

She had fun, spacing it out. The sexy yellow Wolverine costume didn't really go with her complexion, but Peter had snarled so hatefully as he ripped that costume in half front and back, she wondered if he'd actually be mad at her. She'd taken him in her mouth after that, when the shreds of the yellow suit lay scattered around the room. Stroking him to life and completion with her mouth, tongue and the press of her hand. He'd still been a little growly at her during the process, and his hands had still been a rough in her hair. She'd had to pull out all her charm to get a kiss out of him after they lay in the bed, him spent and her sated in her play.

The Black Panther hadn't elicited nearly as much anger as confusion, but she still enjoyed letting him pin her to the couch and strip it off.

"The Thing, MJ, really? Where the hell did you find a sexy Thing costume? He'd would be horrified to see that."

Mary Jane pounded her fists together, ducking around the back of the couch as he came after her. "You telling him?"

"Fuck no!"

He'd been contemplative over her Hulk costume, and she decided to be more careful of the supreheroes that had female equivalents, she looked a little too She-Hulk-y to her liking. No need to encourage his fantasies in that manner.

The sexy Captain America had him shuddering and making all kinds of noise about ruining America's hero image for him. He'd even broken the cheap plastic shield in two.

Peter lay on his back, with his hands tucked behind his head as he stared up at where Mary Jane hung naked from the ceiling in his webbing. That had been his reaction to her Daredevil suit, stringing her up so he could rip it off. "Can't you at least bring out, I dunno, one of the ladies costumes? Psylocke maybe, or… or-"

Mary Jane arched an eye brow as she tried to pull her wrist free. She ached a little from their romp, her leg cramping from the angle he'd caught it in the web. "What lady costume do you want to see, Pete? Something in black, trimmed in fur? Come on, say it. I dare you. Can you get me down, please?"

He spread his hands defensively at her, but made no effort to pull her free. "I'd never ask for a Cat costume from you. Promise. But Captain Marvel, maybe? Or Black Widow?" He pouted at her. "Maybe even a sexy Spidey costume?" he asked a little petulantly.

Mary Jane hummed for a minute before she made a face at him. "That seems extremely masturbatory, there tiger. I didn't think you'd appreciate that."

He sputtered and sat up on his knees to tilt her chin up. "What the hell makes you think I've enjoyed any of this?"

Mary Jane gave him her sweetest smile. "What makes you think this is about your enjoyment?"

The ladies costumes comment called for her coup de grace the next time she dug a costume out from the depths of her closet.

Peter took one look at it and walked out of the bedroom.

Mary Jane scrambled out of the bed, yanking the stupid mask off as she chased Peter into the living room.

"No," he told her when she asked if he was going to help her out of this costume. "I'm not touching you while you're wearing that. That guy's been trying to get under Spidey's spandex almost since I met him. Even _that_," he jabbed a finger at the red and black costume she wore, "is too much like giving in to him. I'll sleep on the couch. I-I'll go find a roof unless you take it off and throw it out the window, _right now._"

Mary Jane winced at the sheer fury in his voice. Ooh, he was really mad. "Um," she said, "you sure you don't want to help, even a little?"

He glared at her. "I'm sure."

"You know, I haven't really gotten out of one of these things, and I'm not sure I can. Not quickly."

Peter's eyebrows shot up almost to his hairline. "Better get started then."

The Deadpool costume had a lot more belts than any of the other costumes, and she'd somehow gotten a costume that actually needed the belts removed to take the rest of the costume off. Damn her wanting more and more authentic looking costumes. She'd thought the Captain America suit had been a pain in the ass to put on. It took her half an hour to strip out of the Deadpool costume.

Peter had watched her the entire time, and she'd caught him staring sometimes at her rear or her breasts as she bared them to him. It made her giddy inside, because she'd almost been afraid she'd ruined their fun sexy times with her game.

"Are you done with this now?" he asked after she'd opened the window and shoved the costume onto the fire escape. It would be gone in the morning, taken where ever he'd burned all the other costumes. "Are you quite happy?"

Mary Jane clasped her hands behind her back and nodded. "Yes, Peter," she promised.

She'd wait a few months, maybe a year and pull the Ant Man costume out after he'd had time to cool off.


End file.
